Blimps In Baltimore
Have you ever asked about the blimps? Yes the blimps? The blimps that “man” made. Those mocking clouds of ” mans” creation that float above us… Have you ever asked your mother and father about the blimps? Have you asked your friends? Your brothers? Your aunts and uncles? Anyone? Your bound to get a different answer from each person you ask. “Why?” I asked my mother one morning while church bound. “What do they do?”. She pondered for a moment. ” I think they tell us the coming weather or something…” She answered dully. Then silence. She dismissed the question with a half-hearted answer. She mentally refused to allow herself to think much of the balloons, she simply didn’t care. They just existed in the air watching us… Watching us live…. Eat…. Sleep…. Watching us struggle and fight… How carefree they seemed. Watching us bathe, love, read, learn…. Watching us die. They’ve always been up above us, on their entirely different plain. They exist, and we exist. But we do not exist like they do. They see everything and won’t go away. How do I know this? Because they told me. They told me who they are and what they do, how they watch us, and how they laugh at us while we struggle here below. They aren’t here to tell us the weather. They aren’t here to protect us from the sweet fiery end other countries may send to us. They aren’t here to look pretty and make us feel happy. They are here to watch us and to learn about us. Last night, I was ripped from my slumber. My house was dark, and my family was ignorantly snoozing in other rooms. I noticed a pool of red soaked into my pillow illuminated by the tv light. I screamed and cried until someone came. The blimps were talking to me again. Sometimes when they talk to me I bleed. My family has never noticed because I’ve concealed the evidence, but this most recent time was excruciatingly painful. My family thinks I’ve gone awry. They think I hurt myself and think I say silly, preposterous things. They think that I speak differently, they think I speak nonsense, but I speak the truth. Their lives, my life… What’s the point? I sit in my room most days now, staring out of my window at the blimps. My family members knock on my door from time to time, asking me to come out. I do to go learn more of their lies, but I never say much to them anymore because they don’t know. My parents, my aunts and uncles, my friends. They don’t know. Everyone I know thinks I’ve lost my way, but they don’t know what I know. They think the blimps are here for good. They aren’t here for bad but also not for good. It’s not my friends and families fault they don’t know though. They were lied to. They were lied to by the people on the tv. They were lied to by the elders. The elders lied to us. But I know, I know the truth because the blimps told me. They told me my friends and family wouldn’t listen to me. That they wouldn’t listen to the truth. I had to try and tell them the truth though so they’d know. But they’ve been trained to reject the truth. To hate those who don’t abide by the lies. It’s not their fault, and that’s why I forgive them. I rarely leave my room now. I only go out after vicious fights with mother and father. They claim I’d dishonor us if I remain isolated. They claim that the elders would take me away, but I truly no longer care. I’ve been thinking about the blimps and what they told me. We’ve got life and living all wrong. But, even if everyone knew the truth, their is nothing anyone could do about it anyway. We would just have to live on the way we currently do, desperately trying to forget the truth. That is why I think I’m happy…. Yes happy… Happy my friends and family didn’t believe me. It is better that they don’t since their is nothing they can do to help themselves or anyone anyway. We will all carry on happily not knowing that we are just an experiment….